


He Was Nothing If Not Determined

by QueenRiley



Category: Power Rangers S.P.D.
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 01:37:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenRiley/pseuds/QueenRiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bridge is going to make the best Purim costume if it's the last thing he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Was Nothing If Not Determined

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).



It had never been said that Bridge Carson lacked creativity. Maybe he was a bit odd and more than a little out there, but he had an abundance of brains and ingenuity. He was also nothing if not determined, so when he put his mind to creating the best costume for Purim ever, he didn’t doubt for one minute that it would be spectacular.

His mother would probably throw a fit when she discovered he’d used all the duct tape. He’d also needed a bunch of her nice sharpie markers and one of his dad’s ties she didn’t know he knew she’d kept after he left. They were in a box in the back of her closet and he’d hated rifling through it, but his all had Star Trek characters on them and that would never do for this costume. He’d had to use the tools in the shed and take apart his old big wheels, but it would be worth it. He knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, she wouldn’t be happy about the mess he’d made in the back yard. But when she saw what he’d created, he just knew she’d burst with pride. He was only eight and he’d made his whole Purim costume entirely by himself. 

Bridge put the finishing touches on his creation. The chair didn’t match the wheels, but he didn’t have any black paint and the markers could only cover so much. At least the duct tape had covered the big red wheels well enough, and he’d been able to draw the X on each one. The old desk chair wasn’t super stable on the wheels, but it rolled and didn’t lock up with the big wheels attached to the sides, so that was really all he could ask for. He smiled, locked the shed behind him, and ran inside to find his best suit.

He was just tying his tie when he heard his mother come in. She spoke more words to the babysitter than Bridge had heard out of the sitter all afternoon, and then the door slammed and he heard his mother on the stairs.

“Bridge? Honey? I’m home.” She slowly swung the door open and he nearly tripped over a pile of dirty laundry in his rush to get to her.

“Can you shave my head? I need to be bald. Well I guess I don’t need to be bald but it would work better for the costume. So please? Can we shave it all off?” He remembered after the fact that he was supposed to start with the social niceties, a hello and how are you. His mother must surely be used to him by now, so he supposed it didn’t matter so much.

“Shave your… what? No, honey. I’m not shaving off those beautiful curls.” 

“But it’s for my costume! It has to be perfect! I put in so much work!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs, letting go at the landing and running through the kitchen to the back yard. He didn’t stop until he got to the shed, knowing she would follow. He threw open the door as she huffed up behind him, then turned with pride to show her what he’d done.

“Bridge, did you… is that my desk chair?” she asked. He scuffed his nice shoes on the floor.

“Only the old one. With the broken arm. I fixed it, then I put my big wheels on it.”

“Is it… did you make a wheelchair?” She circled it and Bridge puffed his chest out. She knew what it was! That means everybody else might, too. He really had made the best costume.

“I’m Professor X, Mama! So we can shave my head, right?” 

“You went to an awful lot of trouble for a Purim costume. It’s just a few hours at the carnival tomorrow, sweetheart. Are you really sure you don’t want to just put on your Batman costume?” She pinched her nose and Bridge realized he was probably pushing too hard. She had been at work for a twelve hour shift. He shouldn’t be badgering her. He just couldn’t help it, when his mind got set on something.

“But it’s what I want to be, Mommy. He’s a superhero. And he’s like me. His brain… his works like mine works. Or mine works like his works. Or maybe they really don’t and we just seem to work like… well we’re the same. And if he can do it maybe I can too, one day. I just want to do what he does, help people and be special and be a hero.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his suit pants and looked up at his mother, his blue eyes wide with hope. Her eyes shone with tears and she placed a gentle hand on top of his head, digging into the wavy curls. She was the only person who could touch him like this and he let the waves of affection wash over him. There was sadness there, too, but he tried to ignore it.

“You are special, Baby. And you can be a hero, even if you’re not a superhero.” Bridge smiled wide.

“So we’re shaving my head?” His spirit soared but she laughed outright.

“Not a chance. I’ll get you a bald cap.”

 


End file.
